Assassins Who Kill
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, days 527-529-531, 541-543-545: For the first Murder Mystery Dinner with all of New Directions, a game where everyone is a killer...
1. The Case of the Assassins

_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 25th cycle. Now cycle 26!_

_A/N: This story will take place on the following days: **527**, 529, 531, then 541, 543, and finally 545. (So that means April 1st, 3rd, 5th, 15th, 17th, and 19th.)_

* * *

><p><strong>"Assassins Who Kill"<strong>

**1. The Case of the Assassins  
>New Directions <strong>

Kurt hadn't even considered the idea that they might say no, not until the morning when he walked into McKinley High with his envelopes in his bag. He wasn't going to let anyone see them yet, because first he had to make sure he could get the word in with his recruits… Puck and Quinn were the last members of New Directions who had yet to join them for at least one of their games. Did they even know about them? They had to, at this point… Did they know they were the last ones who hadn't been invited, ever? Did they care? Did they not? So what would happen when he came up and asked?

He decided he should go to Quinn first. It was just a hunch, but if he figured if he could snag her up, then Puck wouldn't be far behind. He spotted her by her locker, looking through a book, and he came to rest at the next locker over. "Good morning," he bowed his head. She blinked.

"Hi…"

"I have a proposition for you. Over the last few months I've hosted a number of dinners…"

"Your murder mysteries, I know," she nodded, putting the book back in her locker.

"Right, well… It started small, and then every time a few more people were either brought on by others, or others decided to bring themselves in…"

"I know," she went on nodding, like he was explaining too slow.

"Yes, so I was wondering if for the next one you might like to join us. I just so happen to have a plum role with your name on it," he dipped his hand in his bag and pulled out the envelope with her name on it." She looked at it, looking possibly intrigued though at the same time hesitant.

"I don't know…" she spoke.

"You can think about it if you want," he suggested. Again she thought, and then she agreed to that. "Okay, well, you know where to find me," he told her, putting the envelope back in his bag as he walked off. Now he had to wait before he could approach Puck. The thought did occur to him that he could lie, but he'd probably see right through him, and he wasn't in the mood for the payback.

Having pulled out one envelope seemed enough to sound the alarm for the others though, as not a minute later he was halted in his steps by the approaching Santana and Brittany. "Game time?" Santana asked. Kurt sighed and reached in his bag, thumbing through the stack before pulling out two envelopes. He made sure he got the right ones before handing them to their rightful owners.

"Am I dying again?" Brittany asked, like she expected it.

"Not as far as I can tell, but I wouldn't rule it out," Kurt told her. "The game takes place at the meeting of an Assassins' Association, so…" The girls perked up, and he went on to explain more. "Santana, you will be known as 'The Heiress,' and you're very good at creating… accidents," he left it at that, though she was pleased enough. "And Brittany, you are the 'Angel of Death.' You never leave a mark, like you could have just touched them walked away with their life."

"Awesome," she grinned, then, "Not the dying part, just…"

"I know," Santana nodded. "Who are you playing?" she then asked Kurt.

"I'm 'Command', the Chairman, and a turncoat… I used to play for the good guys, then I turned," he spoke dramatically. "Speaking of chairmen…" he excused himself from the girls when he spotted Artie coming down the hall. "Hey, how do you feel about some mystery?" he asked, pulling out another envelope. Artie nodded, so Kurt gave him the envelope.

"I will need help getting in the house though. My father threw his back out… You know, you might want to think about finding a more accessible location, especially with how many of us there would be," he pointed out. Kurt considered this.

"I'll look into it. As for your role, you are 'Watcher.' You are the former Chairman of the Assassins' Association, but since you became a… chair man, you lost your position. Now you've taken to new methods for your kills." After he left Artie, Kurt started thinking about asking Mr. Schuester to get them access to the Glee room for Saturday night, without putting the idea to him that he might join their game… That would just be too weird.

He found Tina and Mercedes next. Even as he approached, he could tell they already knew… someone must have texted them. So he didn't waste time, pulling out the two envelopes. "Assassins?" Mercedes asked, curious.

"Yes," Kurt confirmed, handing her envelope over. "You are 'Fury', you deal with revenge hits, for family deaths, and you always make sure they know what they die for." She was pleased. "And Tina, you are 'The Geisha.'" She gave him a look, as though to say 'really?' "It was either you or Mike," he pointed out. He followed up his two shots, running into Mike and Matt next. "Hey, so are you guys still interested in another game?" he asked, pulling out two envelopes.

"Assassins? Sure," Mike confirmed.

"Right, okay," he carried on, handing Matt his envelope. "You are 'Combat', you're an expert at hand-to-hand, and hard to reach targets. And Mike," he gave the envelope, "You are 'Artillery', you love your explosives. Also, not too good with up-close kills. Maybe that means you're not good with blood."

"That makes two of us," Mike almost had a shiver there. As he left the two, Kurt looked in his bag… not many envelopes left, and two of those he wasn't even sure if he'd get to use…

"Hey, Kurt." He turned and found Quinn standing there. "I thought about it, and… I'd like to give it a shot," she agreed.

"Great!" Kurt tried not to sound too excited and failed miserably. He coughed, reached into the bag and retrieved her envelope again. "So the game is…"

"Assassins, I know," she nodded.

"News travels… That's good, I guess. Okay, so you're 'Matron Murder.'" Quinn looked ready to sour for a moment, so he hurried to carry on. "Well we can't have you running around too much, can we?" he looked to her belly. "Besides, it's a great one. She's kind of mad… Crazy mad, not angry mad… She's kind of a sadist… Loves her torture, primed to snap at any moment…" The more he spoke, the more he could see her face turn from annoyance, to curiosity, to excitement… He always loved seeing that. Now that he had her in the bag, he moved on to find Puck. He wasn't sure, but he had a feeling by the time he got to him, the text message fairy would already have hit and he'd know what it was about… he was right.

"So who else is in this?" he asked before Kurt could speak.

"Everyone in the Glee Club. I just have to go give Finn and Rachel theirs, but I know she'll be in, so he'll be in…" he explained.

"Right…" Puck looked to the envelope, and Kurt gave it to him. "You play 'Slinger'. The guy loves his guns… So I'm sure you'll be able to relate, somehow," he indicated his arms. This then left Finn and Rachel, as he'd told Puck. He was surprised she hadn't come stomping down the hall already…

"Kurt, there you are!" he heard, and he looked up to find… just what he'd expected. So he fished out the last envelopes. When Rachel saw three of them, she knew what it meant; one of those was a backup character, for the victim. He handed one envelope to her.

"Right, I'm guessing you already know what the game is about. You are 'Blind Eye', so you're… blind," he spoke evidently. "But that hasn't stopped you… or your knives." She nodded like a thespian hearing of her role. Then the last two envelopes were handed… to Finn.

"Why do I get…"

"You're the victim," Rachel told him, patting his arm, almost with pride.

"Yes," Kurt cut back in. "You start off as 'the Chameleon', and when you bite the big one, you become 'Bullet', a probie in the association and an apprentice under 'Slinger'. That's Puck."

"How do I die?" Finn asked.

"I'm sure she can coach you on that," Kurt looked to Rachel, who was more than ready for the task. "Right, so… Saturday… It says at my house, but it might be here. I'll let you know."

TO BE CONTINUED (SUNDAY)


	2. Murder Among Assassins

_A/N: For those who asked, if Matt and a pregnant Quinn weren't big enough clues, yes, it's set back in season 1 still :)_

_Characters:  
>Kurt as Command<em>  
><em>Artie as Watcher<em>  
><em>Finn as the Chameleon<em>  
><em>Mike as Artillery<em>  
><em>Matt as Combat<em>  
><em>Puck as Slinger<em>  
><em>Mercedes as Fury<em>  
><em>Tina as the Geisha<em>  
><em>Brittany as the Angel of Death<em>  
><em>Rachel as Blind Eye<em>  
><em>Santana as the Heiress<em>  
><em>Quinn as Matron Murder <em>

* * *

><p><strong>"Assassins Who Kill"<strong>

**2. Murder Among Assassins**

After discussing it with Mr. Schuester, Kurt had been thrilled to hear that he would have the Glee room at his disposal. He vaguely heard him say something about detention watch, but he didn't pay mind to it, instead needing to plan the changes and the transport this would mean. It was easier from home, with the dinner, but he was nothing if not full of contingency plans. He arrived a little earlier on that Saturday afternoon, his father helping him unload everything from the car. Mercedes and Finn came along to help with the set-up. They also made sure the bathrooms were opened, for whatever costume changes might need to happen. They had Mr. Schuester's office available as well, and they would certainly stock some things there, but there were windows, so changing would occur elsewhere. The halls were neutral ground, but when they passed that door…

Kurt's 'Command' costume consisted of being dressed all in black, turtleneck, jacket and everything, and his hair slicked back. As 'Fury', Mercedes had chosen to go in brown and red tones, all with a heart pendant around her neck, for the bond of family she avenged. As for Finn, he took his role as 'The Chameleon' to equate something between a soldier and a ninja, if his attire was any indication. The next to arrive was Artie and, somehow his role as 'Watcher', the former chairman, came out just about the same as the current chairman did: they were dressed just about identically. There was an awkward beat.

"Thanks for doing it here," Artie finally told Kurt.

"Sure," he slowly nodded, and they moved on.

Tina arrived next, with Mike and Matt right behind her. Mike had somehow outfitted his clothes with various little things which would be the explosives of his character, 'Artillery', while Matt, as 'Combat', looked like there had never been someone as badass as he was. Tina, for her part, looked every bit as refined as they came for her role as 'The Geisha.' She had not gone to extremes with it, but it was very clear who she was supposed to be. She was radiating so much presence that the boys looked like her bodyguards, even before they officially became their roles, when they stepped into the room… and they all took notice, to the point of almost breaking character.

The next to arrive was Puck, whose 'Slinger' came off like a modern day cowboy, complete with prop guns holstered in four locations, some hidden and others not. He took his hat off when he walked into the room, a proper gentleman, before taking to a spot to sit, gun twirling around his finger… he'd practiced all week.

All the boys had arrived now, and all they were missing were four girls. Two of them came next, with Santana and Brittany arriving together. As 'The Heiress,' Santana had made sure to look like money. She'd gone and bought a new dress, new shoes, jewelry… no ponytails for her on that night, or Brittany for that matter. As 'The Angel of Death', she looked as immaculate as her character would entail. Dressed all in white from head to toe, with the flowing blonde hair and all, the image was very clear as to who she was supposed to be.

Then came Rachel, perhaps thinking she was the last one to make it. She had her hair in a simple braid, falling on her right shoulder, and round tinted glasses, while in her hand she had the folding cane, down to the wrist strap. She extended it only when she reached the door, the crack of it announcing her. She navigated herself, showing how 'Blind Eye' may have not been able to see, but had the instincts that made her such an efficient assassin.

The last arrival was Quinn, as 'Matron Murder'. She had thought long and hard about how to portray her, and finally she had gotten it. She was dressed very properly, demure, but parts of it betrayed the madness of her mind. The 'centerpiece' was her hair, which she'd made into a tight bun at the back of her head, above her neck, before forcing out tendrils of the hair by pulling and resetting the crossed chopsticks she had inserted in them, as though they had pulled many times in the efforts of her torture. In several places in fact, on her clothes, one could see items readily available for use. On posture, she kept her shoulders round and her eyes emotionless, bordering on crazy, while her left foot almost dragged behind her. She entered the room, and things became quiet. She turned her head left, right, raised her chin, and then slithered along. They were all there now…

"Attention, everyone, I'd like to welcome you all to this year's dinner, I know some of you have travelled far to be here, and we appreciate the gesture," began Command, addressing the gathered group. "I also know how some of you get when you are kept waiting, so I'll keep the formalities brief and say dinner is served," he indicated the table, so everyone moved to take their seat.

There was an instant, as they all got to sit down, and look at the others around them, dressed as they were, that they had to stop, and… Tina was the first to get up, then Mercedes, and then one by one the others as well, all of them barreling into the 'neutral' hall before bursting out laughing. It took them a while before they managed to stop the laughter, stop the tears at their eyes, get their faces to be not so red, and finally work to reestablish their 'character faces' to return to the table. Even as they did, then and throughout the evening, there would be times when they could see someone trying very hard to bite back another burst.

But finally dinner was served, and everyone ate, and talked, as their characters, of course. Matron Murder didn't speak, of course, though she kept an eye on the probies, Fury, Combat, and – later – Bullet, who was under Slinger's tutelage. It was her job to oversee them, make sure they were all on the up-and-up and they weren't going to double cross them or bring shame to the association. She did keep her eye on someone else, though most people would never be able to tell, considering she tended to keep her eye on everyone. No one knew of her affection for the Chameleon, except for him. Then there were the Geisha and the Heiress who, with some aspects of their particular styles of operation overlapping, were both friends and playful rivals. Artillery sat at Command's right hand, as his assistant, ready to jump in if his boss was in danger. At the other end of the table, there was certainly one who could be trying to do that. Watcher had never liked the idea of Command taking over his position after his accident. And then there was the Angel of Death and Blind Eye, also sitting across from one another. Their rivalry was simply a fact to the others, none of them knowing where it had come from. As far as dinner went, it came off like siblings at a table, with Angel of Death 'accidentally' nudging items out of Blind Eye's reach. The more her one hand would reach and find nothing, the more the other would rest near the knife by her plate.

As dinner progressed, Command kept his eye as discreetly as possible on the Chameleon, for no other reason than to wonder when he would finally keel over, and it eventually became evident he wasn't willing to shuffle off until he'd finished his dessert, and he didn't know whether to be annoyed or proud of his cooking skills. But then, finally he reached to his forehead, and Command was sure if he looked to Blind Eye she would be very minimally reenacting every bit of what was about to happen, like the good coach she'd been. The Chameleon reached to his forehead, let out little sounds of distress before grabbing at his chest, looking confused, and then tumbling down to the ground, chair and all. Those on either side of him scrambled out of the way, though no one screamed; it wasn't like they had never seen death in their lives.

"Someone attend to him," Command commanded. Slinger knelt down and felt for a pulse.

"He's gone, Sir," he announced. "Dead," he bowed his head. He looked back up, looked to the others, and already there were eyes going left and right, scrutinizing… Someone here had done this, but who?

"No one touch anything," Matron Murder stood, and now all eyes turned to her. For all her composure, she looked on the verge of losing her cool, and now they had something to be scared about it. "I'm going to find out who did this, and when I do," there was the most frightening hint of a smile at her lips. "We're going to have ourselves a talk…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TUESDAY)


	3. The Assassins Investigate

A/N: Character update:

_Finn as Bullet_

* * *

><p><strong>"Assassins Who Kill"<strong>

**3. The Assassins Investigate**

The Chameleon's body was moved, under the watchful eye of both Command and Matron Murder, who looked positively primed for a little pain and death, to the point some of them genuinely feared for their lives, as themselves and not the characters they portrayed. The Angel of Death had shrunk back behind the Heiress, trying to keep her cool though keeping a close eye on everyone around her. It was not common for them to face death and not have disappeared off into the fog, or something, by the time anyone ever knew there was something wrong. Now not only did they have to stay, they had to find out who among their group had it in enough for the Chameleon that they would be willing to face not just the wrath of Matron Murder, but of the association, who did not take kindly to someone betraying the code of honor they upheld.

Bullet made his entrance, gaining his mentor's side, as they all still kept on edge, like they were waiting for someone to crack… Like that could ever happen, in a group like theirs. Matron Murder made her way to the upturned seat of the table, hunching over the plates, the glass, everything he had touched. She sniffed, she squinted, and everyone else just watched.

"It was poison," Blind Eye spoke up, breaking the silence. "Had to be… And only one of us here is inclined to that." There was a silence, though fine ears might have heard whispers.

"Does she mean me?" Brittany leaned to Santana.

"Of course you would accuse the Angel of Death. Now let's not get hasty," the Heiress cut in, addressing everyone. "Or nasty."

"I make no promises," Matron Murder spoke as she lifted the Chameleon's glass in the air, her hands already gloved, and turned to show it to the others. "It was here. It belonged to him. He only ever drank from this, and he was careful. Someone tainted the insides," she showed with her pinky before looking to the others, holding, almost cradling the cup to herself. It was both a symbol of his death, and his life… it was a murder weapon, hidden… just how he liked it and how he had gotten his name.

"Let's keep some dignity here, ladies and gentlemen," the Watcher spoke up, falling back into old habits, which Command caught on to. They shared a look, and the Watcher had to yield the floor back to him.

"As my fallen predecessor has said," he pressed his words, getting a sneer off the Watcher, "We need to do this right. We are better than this. There will be no finger pointing without good reason, is that clear?" One by one, they nodded, choosing to stay silent. "Good."

"Who would profit from this?" the Geisha spoke up, her tone as refined as she appeared. "That is always what something like this comes down to. It was not an accident."

"Who would get accidentally poisoned?" Artillery spoke up, almost chuckling.

"Well there was Gemini," Combat pointed out, looking solemn, flattening Artillery's smirk.

"This isn't like Gemini, unfortunately," Command brought them back.

"Well I only just flew in tonight, and I never saw the Chameleon until I sat at that table," the Heiress spoke up, shrugging her bare shoulders.

"Hit?" Fury guessed.

"Funeral," the Heiress answered, with a big shuddering breath, "A real tragedy."

"I'm sure," Slinger raised his chin toward her. She just went on looking stricken, with just a hint of a death glare mixed in.

"And how much did you inherit?" the Geisha asked of her friend.

"Oh, a fair sum," her words maintained her persona, but it couldn't tie back the smirk on her lips.

"If we could get back to tonight, and the murder," Command brought them back.

"Let me question them, Sir?" Matron Murder looked at him, an unruly fire in her eyes.

"All in time," he promised her, and she just looked at all of them, as though to say 'you just wait until I get my hands on you.' "We will acknowledge that some of you were not in town recently enough to have tainted the cup and laid the trap for our… fallen brother. As for the rest of you, whose whereabouts are not accounted for, you will need to plead your case. No holding back, is that understood?" Those in question each gave a nod. "Alright then… Let's get started."

TO BE CONTINUED (APRIL 15TH)


	4. I Accuse You, Assassin

_A/N: Here we go, second half!_

* * *

><p><strong>"Assassins Who Kill"<strong>

**4. I Accuse You, Assassin  
>New Directions <strong>

The dinner table had been cleared, and now it served to host the 'jury' who would interrogate those who still had to prove their innocence. On that panel of six sat Command, Bullet, Combat, Fury, the Heiress, and Matron Murder. The other six were those who had to appear before them, and they waited, sitting to the side. At the center of the jury table sat Command, and he took care of calling things to order, even if Matron Murder would have gladly taken care of matters… Of course, she probably would have been just fine torturing and/or killing them all, no questions asked, but she kept quiet… for the moment. If they ever gave her reason to move…

The first to be called to sit on the chair placed a few feet from the table was the Geisha. As she moved to sit in that chair, everyone was silent, as they tended to be, when she walked by. She did have the poise and the presence to warrant that effect. Once she sat, the six at the table shared a look.

"When was the last time you saw the Chameleon, before dinner?" Command asked.

"To be honest, I didn't really know him," she shrugged, then had a small smirk. "Although it wasn't for lack of trying."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Matron Murder cut in. Command cleared his throat, and she sat back.

"Meaning?" he addressed the Geisha once again.

"Well it's no secret the Chameleon was quite the catch. Though from what I heard, someone had already caught him," she made no outwardly obvious gestures, but then she didn't need to; Matron Murder was all but confirming everything she said with her gaze. "So really I see no reason for me to be up here. I only knew of him, and I assure you I had no reason to want to see him dead. Now I'm assuming your next question would be to know where I was in the time leading up to the death, and well… I believe one of you knows that," she bowed her head. No one said a word, but it was safe to say they could leave it at that. So the Geisha got up, retreating in the same silence in which she had entered.

The next to go up was Slinger. At any other time, they might have asked him to remove his guns before he took the chair, but knowing Slinger, even if they asked him to strip, he would still manage to have kept one hidden, so they didn't bother. The first question was the same, asking when he'd last seen the Chameleon. "We shared some words, nothing too big," he shrugged. "He was bragging about one hit, so I had to respond. I told him about the time I was…"

"Please just answer the question," Command cut in. Slinger sat up, vexed, and his hand was on his gun. "No time for that, I assure you." There was another moment's wait, but eventually Slinger sat back and carried on with his testimony.

"Okay, well… We talked, and anyone who was there saw us, and I didn't mess with his cup. And if you ask my good friend Bullet over there, he can tell you I didn't have time to do that before, did I?" he turned to him, and Bullet shook his head. It wasn't long before he was allowed to leave the seat. The next called did not need the chair. Watcher rolled up and positioned himself before the jury. Once again the interrogation began with the same question, 'when did you last see him?'

"It was the first time I met the man tonight, as any leader should know," he didn't look at Command, but his words were all pointed toward him. "But then that same leader would also face the possibility that it didn't matter whether we knew the victim or not, considering what we do for a living, that perhaps an assassin might hire another to eliminate a third… But in this case, I think you will easily find that I do not figure in any of those positions." There was a pause, everyone waiting for Command to say something.

"Thank you… Watcher… That will be all," he flicked his wrist, pointing his finger for him to go. Watcher made a good show of reaching for his wheels and moving back to the side. "Artillery?" Command called. He stood, taking the seat. "As my second in command, you will understand I can't just excuse you from this," he spoke directly to him.

"Yes, sir, I understand," he bowed his head.

"When did you see the Chameleon last?"

"Well…" he started, his eye diverting to the right, where Matron Murder sat. She tilted her head, and Artillery looked back ahead, choosing to say "Last night, when we got off the plane together. We were on the same flight," leaving out the part where he saw him later, going into Matron Murder's chambers. He'd probably been spared a few scars right there. It wasn't as though anyone didn't know about their little affair, doing the business they did, but she wasn't going to have their relationship aired out for cheap jokes. "He did tell me that he thought he was being followed, but he hadn't managed to see who it was. He was positive about it."

"Thank you, that will be all," Command told him. As he stood, Blind Eye was called to take his place. "Blind Eye when did you last s… When did you last meet him?"

"In town," she smirked. "He had never met me, though I knew about him, of course. He didn't know who I was, and he tried to help me cross the street. For a cold-blooded assassin, he had his boy-scout ways. I let him believe it for a while, but then when he saw we were headed the same way, I introduced myself properly. We had a good laugh about it, we did," she smiled on, sensing someone fuming to her right. "As to his murder, if I really need to point out how bad an idea it would be for someone in my condition to handle poison, then we do have a problem, don't we?" There was not much they could do to come back from that, so she was let off the hook, calling forth the last of their six suspects.

The Angel of Death got up, moving to the seat and looking partly concerned at the fact she was the last on the line, though this may have been a break in character. It didn't last long, and the interrogation could begin, and it did, with the same old question. "I was on his flight, too. But he didn't see me. He was far, and I don't raise my voice. But that's the last place I saw him."

"That's a lie," Fury cut in, catching everyone off guard.

"Fury, do you have something to say?" Command looked to her.

"I saw you in the hall, coming out of his room upstairs," she revealed.

"Was that his room?" the Angel of Death frowned.

"It's pretty convenient how you wear gloves all the time," Combat commented.

"It's not… that. I mean it's part of how I dress, but it's also to cover…" she spoke as she removed the gloves. The others gasped. In Brittany's infinite dedication to her murder mystery dinner costumes, she had drawn her hands to look covered with burns. "There was that accident, remember?"

"Yes… With Gemini," Bullet pointed out, calling back the reference to their fellow assassin who had accidentally poisoned himself. Now though they wondered… "Did you help him there, too?"

"No, I…" she shook her head, trying to pull her gloves back on even if her hands were shaking.

"So it's two of your fellow assassins you eliminated, is that right?" Command spoke now, and no one said a word. The Angel of Death didn't know what to say.

TO BE CONTINUED (SUNDAY)


	5. The Assassin's Trial

**"Assassins Who Kill"**

**5. The Assassin's Trial  
>New Directions <strong>

Just as the assassins had been glaring down at the Angel of Death, and Matron Murder looked ready to launch, Command had waved a small flag, indication that the game would pause, and they could head out into the hall as themselves. It seemed aptly timed, as a number of them made a dash for the bathrooms.

"No talking about the game," Kurt instructed as the rest of them hung around.

"I think I hit my head when I died," Finn spoke, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Let me see," Rachel pushed the glasses on top of her head and moved behind Finn. He had to crouch for her to see, and she inspected where he pointed. He didn't wince, but he had the slightest of flinches. "Do you feel sick or anything?"

"No, it's fine, it just hurts. It's fine," he insisted.

"You don't want to risk it," Rachel shook her head.

"Yeah, might make it worse," Santana snorted, nearby. Rachel's head snapped back to look at her.

"No, really, I promise," Finn assured her before she went at Santana, who could no doubt take her. He was almost relieved when he saw Santana move off toward Brittany. The blonde was standing to the side, poking at the space between her fingers, to push her gloves as far as they could.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Santana asked, absently fixing the collar on Brittany's jacket. The 'angel' turned her blue eyes up to her brown ones.

"I'm gonna die again, aren't I?"

"I don't know," Santana shrugged.

"I always die," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're good at it," Santana told her. Brittany frowned. "No, but you know what I mean?" She shook her head. "Thing like this, being the victim or the killer, that makes you special," she reminded her. "And you've gotten to do it more than any of us, so what does that make you?"

"Really dead?"

"Really special," Santana corrected, and it got a smile out of Brittany. "So if you have to die, you just go for it, do what you do," she suggested.

"Thanks," Brittany nodded, just as the last of the others returned from the bathroom.

"Are we ready to go back?" Kurt asked, and everyone confirmed. "Right, so as soon as everyone's back in place, the game is on." They filed into the room and regained the positions they had left before the break. Once everyone was there, Command waved the flag once more. It took a moment for things to happen, having broken the momentum they'd had going. Usually ready on the assault, Matron Murder had taken the charge.

"Sir, if I could have a word with the Angel, in private, I can be very persuasive when I need to be," she spoke, never taking her eyes away from the girl sitting before them, looking frightened despite knowing the threat was one of play and nothing more.

"Let's not get hasty," Command told her, though his voice would have indicated he wasn't against the idea for future times. "We still need to understand a thing or two."

"What were you doing in his room?" Blind Eye asked, her glasses now back in place.

"I… can't say," the Angel of Death spoke, hands folded in her lap.

"I think you need to," Watcher spoke from the sidelines.

"But I can't…"

"Or you won't," Matron Murder corrected. She didn't reply. "I knew you would be trouble, from the moment you joined our association. I said so, didn't I?" she looked to Watcher, who had been in command at the time. "I said so, and you overruled me. Now look what you've brought on our house."

"Now let's hold on here," Slinger piped in, and he didn't flinch at all, with the look Matron Murder gave him. "All I'm saying here is it's happened to me more than once that I found myself in the wrong room from time to time. Occupational hazard," he smirked, and at this, there were a few heads who gave careful nods.

"Fair enough," Command replied, then looked back to the accused. "Did you know it was the Chameleon's room?" There was a pause.

"Yes," the Angel of Death replied, and a moment later Matron Murder had pulled the chopsticks from her hair, releasing one more strand or two.

"She's a bad element. We don't need that here," Blind Eye pitched in.

"Yes, cast her out," the Geisha nodded.

"And what's to say she won't seek her revenge," Artillery added. There was a moment of silence, as everyone exchanged looks.

"I didn't do it," the Angel broke the silence, giving the first flat out denial of what they were accusing her of. All it got her was eleven pairs of eyes turned back on her. Command stood and addressed the gathered group.

"The lesson needs to be clear here, to you, Angel of Death, and to anyone else who would betray our trust. If you agree with this, come and join me in eliminating this threat." The Angel sat up in her chair, looking around as one by one the others stood along with Command, Matron Murder as the first, and the Heiress as the last. They moved forward, all around her, closing out the space… No way out, no more light, no more day… Because when sounds would cease, when the circle would open again, the Angel of Death would have fallen victim to not one, not two, or five, or six, but eleven murdering hands. "Take her away from here," Command instructed. Artillery, Combat, and Slinger took up the charge, picking her up. As they did though, something slipped from her hand.

"Wait," the Geisha saw it and moved forward, picking it up.

"What is it?" both Command and Watcher asked at once. The Geisha observed it, a folded slip of paper. Suddenly her posture shifted.

"Proof…" she slowly turned, solemn. "Proof we've just made a terrible mistake…"

TO BE CONCLUDED (TUESDAY)


	6. The Assassins' Truth

_A/N: Final chapter! :) It's real early in the day on account of I won't have electricity for most of tomorrow :(_

* * *

><p><strong>"Assassins Who Kill"<strong>

**6. The Assassins' Truth  
>New Directions <strong>

The Geisha's words resonated amongst the gathered assassins, and not one of them was looking anywhere else but at her hand and the note she was holding. They didn't know what she meant exactly, not yet, but they could imagine it, and they were all more curious than the next. It would have been expected, by Command most of all, that he would receive the piece of paper for inspection, but instead the Geisha turned to Watcher, who had been in charge of the association for longer than Command, in her eyes, and was a much more trusted figure with a matter like this one. So she handed him the paper, and the gesture didn't go by unnoticed. Watcher felt empowered, while Command was betrayed, and though no one would say it, they couldn't deny allegiances were split amongst them, between the old and the new leader.

"What does it say?" Command asked.

"What does what say?" Blind Eye asked, perhaps now realizing that she wasn't meant to know what was happening just yet, not having seen the paper.

"The Angel of Death was holding this paper, before we… acted," Watcher explained.

"What does it say?" Artillery repeated his boss' words.

"It says 'The Chameleon isn't the traitor, but he knows who is and he has proof. He may be in danger. The proof must be protected.'" Everyone was silent as they considered this information.

"A traitor?" Matron Murder asked, looking around at all the faces, knowing now it was one of them who had killed her beloved, and as such her rage was renewed.

"Now we know why she was in his room. She tried to retrieve this proof. Fury, when you saw her in the hall, was she carrying anything?" She thought for a moment.

"No…" she answered, but just as someone else was about to speak, "Though come to think of it… The way she walked, I think she had something hidden under her clothes."

"So she had the proof with her," Combat deducted.

"Yes," Watcher agreed. "And if that's the case, then she may have allowed us to find this traitor. If not, he or she might have gone on, never caught." A few were now looking back to the body they had put on the nearest couch, the body of the one they had been so ready to kill a moment before and now could only thank in spirit. "We will need to search her belongings."

"Excuse me, but I do believe I'm the one in charge here," Command spoke again, for the first time since Watcher had taken over in explaining things.

"Which doesn't put you outside of suspicion. And now I'm wondering, with how quickly you've intervened when we suggested to find this proof, if maybe our search will only lead to you… Command." There was a rumble of gasps, one of them even coming from the 'dead' body on the couch.

"How dare you?" Command spat.

"I remember how you came to us; we all do. You were a turncoat by nature. You betrayed your people and joined us. What's to say you haven't had another change of heart?"

"I'll search her belongings," Artillery stepped up, defying his boss' word, which practically signalled the moment when everyone cast Command in the role of the killer. Having just made this accusation not long before, which had resulted in the wrongful termination of the Angel of Death, they knew they had to make sure, and Watcher nodded to Artillery.

"I'll help," Matron Murder stood, then, "Don't let him get away," she glared at Command.

"We've got him," Slinger nodded for Bullet to back him up, both of them standing on either side of the accused. They'd all seen the box near the door when they came in, and they didn't understand what it was until that moment: the Angel of Death's belongings. They looked inside, and soon they returned, holding a folder, which Artillery handed to Watcher. He looked through it, careful, and then he looked up, not tearing his eyes away from Command.

"Matron Murder… he's all yours." For the very first time, and the most frightening, she smiled.

"Boys, please escort him to my chambers." Slinger and Bullet carried him off, under protest, while the others looked to Watcher. Now the fallen leader was being given a second chance, to head their association once again, though this would also signal the game's end. As soon as he'd been 'released', Kurt returned with the flag, indicating the game was done, and they were once again themselves. Brittany 'woke up' from the couch.

"My arm's asleep," she complained. It had been stuck under her when they put her down, and as she was meant to be dead, she didn't want to move it.

"I think this was our best one so far," Tina smiled, and there were nods and smiles and voices of approval all around.

"This was fun," Quinn was one of those who approved, admitting with a nod.

"You really got into the character, you were kind of scary," Kurt complimented her, and she grinned. "What about you?" he looked to Puck.

"How come we were the last ones to know?" was his answer, and there was almost tenseness.

"I won't make that mistake again," Kurt promised, bowing his head, and Puck did the same. Finally, they were all there, and beyond the singing and dancing of Glee Club, it felt good to have something that was theirs… And Kurt couldn't wait to do it all again…

THE END


End file.
